Billy & The Beast (Ever After, New York #3) - Eli Easton Page 0,23

guess that’s lucky for you, since I’m the only pool boy you’ve got.”

“There is a God.”

He was such a grump. But I felt like much of the time, now, it was put on. I could see the corner of his mouth fighting not to smile.

“Anyway, I thought I was a twerp, not a pool boy.”

“You’re both, you master of contradiction.”

My grin broadened and I wanted to squirm with pleasure. I loved his quips. “What are you reading?”

He turned the book to face me. A History of American Stock Market Crashes.

“A little light beach reading, huh? So whodunnit?”

“Reagan,” he said without missing a beat.

I laughed. “Might be a bit jarring to go from that to Frogs later on.”

He closed the book. “Want to watch it now?”

I shrugged. “It’s better with beer. Bit early for that. Want to play a game?”

He looked dubious. “What kind of a game?”

“I dunno. Something we could play out here. Chess, checkers, cards. Do you play games? Or . . .”

I suddenly felt self-conscious again. Did people like Sebastian Aaron Montgomery IV think “games” were dorky? Maybe they were too busy cavorting in ski boats and playing polo ponies to find any appeal in something so mundane. I ran a hand down my chest nervously, sending droplets of water scurrying.

His gaze followed my hand, then he looked at the pool. “My father and I used to play backgammon.”

“Oh, yeah? I’ve never played that. I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“I should still have my board. I’ll go get it.” He tossed his book aside and stood up. “Want some coffee or anything while I’m in the house?”

I blinked at him. “No thanks.”

He hurried up the stairs, his limp more pronounced in his haste. He was being awfully solicitous. He seemed to be into our plans for the day, which made me ecstatic.

When he came back, we set up the board on the teak dining table and took chairs opposite each other. I positioned mine so I was out of the shade of the umbrella. The sun felt great as my skin dried, followed by my hair and shorts. He explained the rules, then we played five games. I won the second, fourth, and fifth rounds because I kept rolling doubles.

After the fifth game, Aaron gave me a dirty look. “One more. Then we’ll start the coals. Your beginner’s luck has to run out sooner or later.”

“Or maybe I’m just smarter than you.”

His lip quirked up. “Improbable.”

“Naturally.”

He started to set up the board.

“I like backgammon,” I said. “But it feels like it’d be even better playing it in front of a fireplace in the winter.”

He made a sound of agreement. “And where will you be this winter?”

I felt a stab of unease. “I . . . what do you mean?”

He glanced up. “I assumed you’d have other plans for the fall. College?”

Oh. I swallowed a lump in my throat. Yeah, that would be great, wouldn’t it? Going off to college like all my high school friends. Only that wasn’t my life. “I go to Ever After College. So I’ll still be living here. And I’ll still need work. My hours might need to shift around a bit, depending on my class schedule. I mean, if you still need a gardener over the winter.”

“You go to college in Ever After?” Aaron said with surprise. “Why there? You seem bright enough.”

That niggle of unease turned to embarrassment. I felt my cheeks burn. “It’s not always about what school you can get into. Sometimes it’s about what you can afford, and where you need to be. I can’t leave my mom.” I stood up abruptly. “I’m ready for a beer. How about you?”

“Sure,” Aaron said hesitantly.

I went over to the bucket of beer and ice and grabbed us two bottles. It was fancy artisan stuff, of course. I popped the tops and took them over to the table. My chest burned with anger and hurt. I knew I was overreacting. His question was an obvious one. Why did it get to me so much?

Because it reminds me how ordinary and inconsequential I am compared to him. Aaron was rich and had gone to Harvard. He hung around with rich and powerful people. Glamorous people. I was not that. Why would he want to be friends with me, much less anything more?

Sure, but where are all those people now?

It was his solitude that made me hope. My heart, poor thing, had no common sense filter whatsoever. I returned to the table and held out

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